


Take Me (To The Other Side)

by Kaze_Amaya



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Drabble, It's up to you whether or not this is underage I guess, M/M, his age is never actually stated, the original character is just some nameless person, vague mention of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaze_Amaya/pseuds/Kaze_Amaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers his name, where he lives, has a guess as to which district he spent last night in, and knew he wished he hadn't woken up at all. His head hurt, his limbs felt flooded with lead, and he didn't know how he was supposed to walk back home to sneak a change of clothes out without his grandmother catching him with how back his back and asshole hurt by the mere thought of walking.</p><p>So, nothing new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me (To The Other Side)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a habit of just using vague clips right from the fic itself for summaries and I'm not sure whether it's bad or not. Also I have posted only drabbles despite having mammany ideas for multi-chapter or one shots. Oh well. One day.
> 
> Anyways this is just something that came out while I was listening to a song which this drabble is named after. Not the Red Hot Chili Peppers one though, it's a different one. I don't know who does it, and I've never been able to find out. All I know is it is cool and makes me think of going to a club and I like it.
> 
> Have fun reading!

He was buzzing with life, or maybe it was just the liquor boiling in his gut and making its way through his limbs. The lights were blinding, flashing in a way that would make you dizzy in the best way. Everything felt alright in that moment for once as he stumbled off the barstool and into the crowd thrumming with the same energy he himself felt. There was the beat of a generic song, a woman's voice saying something, her words echoed by some kind of audio effect.

"I wanna hear you say, oh I wanna play, come closer, touch my body."

People grinded on each other shamelessly, in the way strangers do when they know not even they themselves would remember it in the morning. The young man fit perfectly in between two people when they gladly let him worm his way in, giving him all of their short attention span. The bass pounded the floor under their feet, or maybe that was just the pounding of the people all jumping and landing in unison to the song. It made him stumble a bit, but the person at his back caught him and held him close, uncomfortably so. Or, what would be uncomfortable for most. He doesn't seem the least bit put off, leaning back into whoever it was as if they had been cherished lovers for a lifetime. God, what was that stuff he took earlier? It made him terribly happy and disgustingly content being held like this. It made his hairs stand on end, but he still couldn't bring himself to be uncomfortable in this complete and utter stranger's arms. He fit too perfectly to resist, their hips swaying in time together- not to create friction but just to move smoothly and happily.

His arms reach up to encircle the shoulders protecting him from any of the rambunctious crowd, pulling their head down to meet his as he stands on his toes. His head tilts back, and their lips mesh together messily and loosely. Their teeth catch his upper lip, and he chuckles breathlessly, their hot, alcohol infused breaths mingling in that moment.

The song changes to something else with a slightly different beat, and the drunken crowd takes an awkward few moments to get back into the rhythm of the music and each other. He stumbles again, but the person behind him holds fast to keep him from falling once more. Like his own personal body guard, he thinks.

"What's your name, sweetie?" He hears a deep, smooth voice ask. He doesn't so much as hear it as he feels it in a rumble against his back and a heat washing over his left ear. So it seems it was a guy he was dancing with? Not too surprising, considering that despite being short for a man, there are few women taller than him anyways. Surely he would have felt lumps against his back too, if it had been a woman. It only occurs to him after the reveal of possible gender though, considering when the person hums in his ear questioningly for an answer, he can't even remember his own name. Whatever it was he took was either good shit or should not have been mixed with alcohol. He'd find out in the morning if he didn't wake up dead, just wishing he was.

"Mmnn... Sly?" It's obviously a question with his intonation at the end, he just remembers someone shouting that at him earlier so he honestly didn't know. The heat in his ear is back, in the form of a chuckle this time.

"You don't sound too sure about that..."

"It's fine," he reassures, honestly he couldn't care less about what he was called. Right now he could be called Mr. Fuckface and it wouldn't make a lick of difference, as long as this moment didn't end yet. 

"Alright, Sly, come here often?" What a poor attempt at flirting. The moment will be ruined at this rate. Gotta save it.

"Shut up and dance with me," Sly insists, turning around in the person's arms to face them. Another chuckle washes over him, and he tucks his face into the person's neck. They keep rocking together to the beat of the next three songs, kisses being littered on this sweet stranger's neck. As the songs progress their hips start to lose the matching rhythm, slowly turning into plain grinding by the end of the third song. They're both hard, heat pooling between their hips and chests. The kisses showered on the stranger start turning into licks, then nips and escalates into bites. He can feel the vibration of a groan deep in tonight's partner's throat, their head tilting back at a particularly rough bite and knock of hips. His right leg is hooked on the stranger's hip now, and they groan again at the harsh rolling of erections.

"C'mon Sly, wanna get out of here?"

"Hell yeah," he snaps out of his short lived romantic reverie, turned on and hard and starting to feel over-sensitive to the people crashing around the pair.

\---

Aoba wakes up the next morning as the sun starts to rise in a room he doesn't recognize, remembering the basic facts of himself and his life but remembering nothing of the time he lost all that in the dead of night. He remembers his name, where he lives, has a guess as to which district he spent last night in, and knew he wished he hadn't woken up at all. His head hurt, his limbs felt flooded with lead, and he didn't know how he was supposed to walk back home to sneak a change of clothes out without his grandmother catching him with how back his back and asshole hurt by the mere thought of walking.

So, nothing new.

He decides it's time to get out of this home that isn't his, preferably before the chucklefuck beside him wakes up.

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't much, just something I wrote before bed but yeah hope you liked it! Bonus points to whoever can catch that Fallout 4 reference. It's relatively subtle and if you see it and think "is that it" that is probably it. Comment if you find it!
> 
> Also I will be taking DRAMAtical Murder related requests now for any character and any pairing no matter what it is and who all may be in it. If you catch that reference then you can be guaranteed a request fill.


End file.
